This is about missing a place that I’ve only seen in dreams and movies. This is about helplessness in the face of a disaster.
santa ana winds
paradise, charred,
profoundly silent in its finality
velvet drawn over a brick wall
slips like mist beyond this totality
the santa ana winds
drive you to suicide,
impulsive murder,
they fuel wildfires
with flamboyant despair.
clouded air stings
of ocher woodsmoke
laced with sex and the taste
of your lips from my dreams.
paradise burnt.
don’t hedge bets on merciful profanity.
just carve a firebreak in your heart
and slip like mist beyond this totality.
